Voldemort's Birthday
by rScott94
Summary: It's December 31st 1997, the day before the year that will see the end of the Wizarding war. For one day the residents of Malfoy Manor decide to throw a surprise party for their master, but certain things are just not normal for these Death Eaters...
1. Manic Morning

***This story takes place on the 31st December 1996 - the winter before the end of The Deathly Hallows ***

**Chapter 1 – Manic Morning**

The sun was rising steadily above the elaborate stone structure of Malfoy Manor. The peacocks awoke and began their morning patrol along the luscious green hedges that surrounded the house. The skull of the Dark Mark that hung above the mansion yawned gently as the snake gave a hiss and wiggled out of the gaping hole.

Narcissa Malfoy drew back the curtains of the board room with her wand. She looked around and sighed. This room used to be her favourite. Every night the family would gather here and enjoy a beautiful house-elf-made roasted dinner, the fire would be blazing, and jokes would be had between them all. Thinking of this brought a tear to her eye; she could not remember the last time her poor Draco had laughed.

In her left hand she held the morning's Daily Prophet, it was only six in the morning but Snape's owl – unlike him – always had a tendency to turn up early. As she glanced back down toward the paper she glanced at the date: 31st December 1996. Tomorrow would be the start of the year that the wizarding war would end, but nobody knew of this yet.

The door to the board room opened with a loud crash. Followed by this commotion was the excitable screeching cackle of Bellatrix. She was still in her night clothes, an ankle length night dress which still contained stains from her stay in Azkaban. Her eyes were wide as she peered around the room in search for someone or something.

'I couldn't sleep, Cissy,' Bellatrix giggled as she attempted to whisper. She ran a hand through her bushy hair which was larger than usual due to having just got out of bed. 'He hasn't got a clue!' She sounded like a child teasing in the playground.

'Shush, Bellatrix!' Narcissa waved the newspaper at her sister. 'I thought you were him when you waltzed in so carelessly!'

'I'm just so excited, the Dark Lord, a big seven-zero!' Bellatrix ran around the long table in the room.

Moving pictures of Voldemort through his childhood years were hung on all four walls, and printed underneath them were humorous captions that seemed to dance around with the young Dark Lord.

Bellatrix noticed that one of the pictures was her faithful master at her very own wedding. He was stood there with more hair than he had now, however a bald patch had formed into the back of his head. The Voldemort in the picture was handing Bellatrix a present wrapped in paper patterned with snakes. He looked quite put out as the younger Bellatrix teased him about his hair, but his face soon went a rosy pink when she pulled down his head and kissed his bald patch. The caption read: _"Baldy Voldy in a Sporting Red"_

Bellatrix moved on from the funny-captioned pictures and walked over to the large dinner table where many meetings had been had concerning capturing Harry Potter. In front of every seat on the table was a funky patterned placemat. On each placemat was a small box of wax crayons, a little colouring book, a cone shaped party hat, a streamer, and a cracker – the Death Eaters had imported more than was necessary for Christmas. It seemed ironic that the Death Eaters were partial to muggle Christmas crackers, however the jokes never failed to send Voldemort into a fit of hysterics – and on that note they were ordered to buy many.

The morning seemed to disappear quickly. Lucius, Draco, and Greyback drove off in a white van at just after ten o'clock. They had to drive into the nearest city centre, and pick up a large order of pizzas for the celebration. It would take them until at least half twelve until they would arrive back at the manor.

The female population of the Death Eaters were all stood in the kitchen, preparing a buffet to put out for the party this afternoon. Narcissa was particularly focused on guiding her steady wand as she used it to drape a sweet pink border of icing around the top layer. There was not much atmosphere in the kitchen after Bellatrix had stormed out, she wanted to jump out of the cake in order to surprise her master, however the sponge texture of the cake's interior had already set. Narcissa would have had to start all over again.

The Dark Lord himself was still upstairs in his bedroom. Lucius had given Voldemort the privilege of sleeping in the biggest bedroom that the house had to offer, but Lucius had failed to mention that his mother had spent all of her time in the grand suite until her unfortunate departure from the world.

Voldemort was sat looking out of the window, over the wondrous garden at the back of the manor. His red eyes slowly scrolled up to the cold blue sky. The Dark Mark that was centred above the garden looked down and winked at him cheekily. Voldemort's eyes soon averted back down to the fountain feature that stood in the middle.

'Milord, can't we have another game of chess?' Came the nagging voice of his closest servant.

'Behave, Wormtail! I have already told you the answer is no. I'm getting too old for chess.' Voldemort spoke with a soft seductive tone. Nobody had come up to wish him a Happy Birthday yet, and it was nearly noon. He had sunk into a mild state of depression. Was he worshipped? Or were they all just cowards. 'Harry Potter doesn't have any muggle means of telephonic communication does he?'

'Not that we are aware of, Milord,' Wormtail bowed behind his master, then continued to set up the chess board. 'Did you want to prank call him?'

'I was going to suggest a friendly catch up…but now that you've mentioned that…' Voldemort rose from the wooden chair that he was sat on. He drifted over to door to his private ensuite bathroom.

The door to the private bathroom was slightly ajar. Hung over the frame of the door was a coat hanger which held the Dark Lord's famous long black robes. He slid out of his dressing gown, looked over his shoulder to make sure that Wormtail wasn't having a quick look, and then picked his robes down from the door. He put them on like it was just another ordinary day.

'Bloody traffic,' Draco exclaimed from the middle of the three seats in the white van. The white van trio had nearly made it to the major city when they had hit a long queue of traffic. Unaccustomed to such fuss made the three wizards uncomfortable.

Greyback had found some amusement of his own. He was rummaging around in the glove box under the dashboard. He fingered through a collection of cassette tape music, and found himself a brochure entitled: 'Amsterdam.' His scarred face illuminated as the colourful pictures advertised him a holiday. Looking across to Draco and Lucius, Greyback grinned from ear to ear, as if to ask them to take him.

Lucius Malfoy was sat in the driver's seat. His pale white hands shook nervously as he gripped the steering wheel with all his might. He had drawn the short straw and had to drive the van there and back. He wanted to silence the immature behaviour of Greyback but choked on his own words as his mouth trembled.

'Would anybody like a mint?' Greyback asked with delight. He had returned to the glove box and happened to find an old packet of opened mints that had been favoured over long distance journeys.

'Go on then, if you're offering,' Draco smiled politely as he reached into the bag. Pulling out a white, pearly sweet, he popped it into his mouth. Within seconds his eyes became red with tears. Sticking his tongue out, the Malfoy boy panted for his life and spluttered. 'Blimey, what kind of mints are they?'

'Do you think I can read?' Greyback asked dumbly.

'Give that here,' Draco snatched the packet of mints off Greyback. As he did so at least ten of the remaining sweets fell out of the bag. A few rolled over the dashboard, one got lodged where the dashboard met the windscreen. Several of the others bounced onto the carpeted flooring of the van causing Draco to kick his feet up in despair.

'Behave!' Roared Lucius as his head jolted round. A massive scowl alternated from Greyback to Draco. His eyes slowly found the lodged peppermint sweet and Lucius took a deep breath. 'I need to concentrate, okay?' He sighed. 'My lord, it's hot in here. Greyback, how do you do the windows in this thing?'

'There's a little mechanical arm to your right, Lucius.' Greyback matured the tone in his voice and spoke properly. 'If you wind it, the window will lower itself.' He smiled.

'What?' Lucius rummaged around with the van door next to him. 'I can't seem to…ouch,' He banged his elbow off the edge of his seat, 'where in Merlin's name…is…' he grunted impatiently. The car in front of them had started to move a little way down the road. Lucius was in a state of panic as he refocused himself back onto the wheel. The van edged forward.

Greyback flung himself across Draco and was lay across the two Malfoys' laps. He outstretched an arm to reach for the window winder. He kicked his legs as he flailed his upper limbs around the cabin. He managed to grab onto the 'mechanical arm' just as Lucuis began to beat him for distracting his attention.

Draco found the strength in him to lift Greyback up into his seat. He frowned with the commotion and subconsciously reached into the packet of mints in order to feed himself a second. After realising what he had done, he pummelled Greyback in the shoulder with a spoilt child's rage slapped across his face.

A cool breeze entered the cabin as the window had been lowered about half way. The traffic was still moving so the three travellers sat still, mesmerised by the similar motion of all the vehicles that lined the roads.

Lucius remained silent as he focused solely on the road. Controlling the van came easier to him when the movement was constant and not stop start. Next to him, Draco breathed heavily as he regained his temper and patience.

In a very slow manner, Draco leant forward and opened the glove box in order to replace the packet of peppermints that he strongly despised. As he did so, he looked up at Greyback who was once more drawn to the contents of the hidden shelf. Draco tried to close the glove box but was interrupted…

'Can't we put on some of this easy listening music, Lucius?' Greyback roared with excitement as he made a grab for one of the cassettes entitled: _Easy Driving Tracks_

In the dungeon dormitories of Hogwarts, one man slowly awoke in his velvet quilted king-sized bed. Sitting up, the heavy sleeper yawned and looked across to the small digital clock by his bedside. The red LEDs illuminated the time: 11.05.

Leaping from the comfort of his bed in one swift movement, the Headmaster darted to his wardrobe. Pulling out one of his many heavy black robes he dressed himself very quickly and then ran a thin comb through his tangle of greasy black hair.

Severus Snape swore very loudly as he remembered the surprise party…


	2. Recipe for Disaster

**Chapter 2 – Recipe for Disaster**

Professor Snape stormed up the spiral staircase that led from his dungeon chamber to the ground floor. His brisk walk almost became a flight as he tried to hurry without looking suspicious in front of any of the students. A corridor took him past his old Potions class and he stopped for a moment to look through the window.

He was stood there, scolding Harry Potter on his first day of Hogwarts. 'Clearly, fame isn't everything is it?' He questioned the insolent child with his gentle monotone voice. His cold black eyes stared straight into the green as he strengthened his image.

Snape was usually good at controlling his thoughts, but this one moment, this one miniscule second of allowing him to indulge into a flashback of his life. This was the moment that made sure that he forgot the shopping list that he had prepared the night before.

The Hogwarts headmaster had made his way to the foyer before the entrance to the school when he was attracted to a large commotion. A group of students were stood in a circle apparently around somebody who had fainted.

'Don't we all have lessons to be attending?' Snape said as he aimed to glare disgustedly at every single student in the crowd.

All of the students stood watching their headmaster awkwardly. It was New Year's Eve and the middle of the school Christmas holiday period. They all wanted to correct the dark-robed villain; however none of them had nearly enough courage to challenge him.

'Potter would have said something,' Snape muttered under his breath as a tear came to his cold black eyes. He stormed through the crowd of students and even tripped up a few times. Once he had fought his way to the middle, he saw what everybody was on about.

Professor Slughorn was laid on the floor asleep. His sleeping face smiled as he uttered the names of some of the students that he had collected. 'Regulus Black,' then came a loud snore, 'Lily Evans,' followed by another one, 'the wannabe, Severus Snape,' which was followed by a snore so loud that he woke himself up.

'Err, professor?' Snape spoke awkwardly as he imitated the voice of Alan Rickman.

'Oho, Severus,' Slughorn smiled as he looked up at the concerned teacher. 'I was just having a wonderful dream about you, y'know.'

'Yes, I heard…the wannabe?' Snape quoted.

'Did I really say that?' Slughorn looked around in amazement. His smile increased as he noticed that some of the surrounding students laughed.

Snape's pale face was immediately painted with a splash of red. Realising the embarrassment that had swarmed over him, he addressed the crowd. 'All students please return to your common rooms! If I see anyone lurking these hallways in thirty seconds then I might just ask the Dark Lord himself to kill a few of you!'

'Milord, are you okay?' Wormtail asked in astonishment. As he rose to his feet and clasped his hands together he peered down at Voldemort. The Dark Lord had randomly collapsed at the foot of his bed whilst making the sheets.

'Blasphemy,' Voldemort shuddered as he stumbled to his feet. 'When will that Snape child realise that he cannot threaten people with my ability to kill…' Voldemort sank to the floor once more. He then produced a word that was stronger than any curse he had ever cast – a swear word.

Professor Snape recovered his arm with the sleeve of his robe after warding off all of the students with his Dark Mark. Having Death Eaters running the school meant that Lord Voldemort had become a sacred symbol and was not to be tampered with.

Slughorn, by this point, had dozed off to sleep once more. As he began to enter his trance of student names, the potions teacher was rudely awakened by a foot to the chest. 'Hmm, oh yes, Severus? You need help with your assignment?'

'Don't make me give you the sack,' Snape spoke like a snake, if a snake could talk that is, leaving awkward pauses between every other word.

'Sorry, Headmaster,' Slughorn realised just where he was. He rose to his feet and brushed the dust off of his jacket – which caused Snape to sneeze. 'Well bless you!'

'Don't,' Snape said simply but harshly as he held a finger before his lips. 'The question is, Professor, what were you doing sleeping on the foyer floor?' He cocked an eyebrow as if he anticipated a smarmy remark.

'Pixies invaded my chamber, sir. They wouldn't let me sleep.' Slughorn's eyes begged with desperation. 'I don't suppose you'd have let me top and tail with you, eh, Severus?' He chuckled weakly.

'Actually you could have…' Snape spoke without any sarcasm for probably the first time in his life. 'More to the point, you shouldn't have challenged my threat – I did say I would put pixies in your bed if you stroked my hair once more…'

'But we all know that you meant the other kind,' Slughorn trembled as he tried to joke with Snape. 'You know…I thought it meant that you'd put me in the mood for, err…'

'Stop right there!' Snape grimaced has he realised the sexual ambiguity behind his threat. 'Anyway, I can't stop to chat. I've got an important…celebration to attend.'

As Professor Snape made his way through the front doors of Hogwarts, his cloak flowed behind him elegantly. Slughorn, who was ridden with shame and nerves raised his hand up to his chest and waved slowly at his disappearing colleague. He shook one last time as the doors banged shut.

Professor Slughorn was just about to curl up on the floor again once more when the doors were kicked open. Expecting an intruder, he jumped to his feet and drew his wand from his belt. He soon saw though, that Severus Snape had returned…

'I forgot my broom…' Snape spoke quietly as he kept his head down.

Slughorn chose not to say anything, and little did he know, that he had just saved his own life.

The kitchen of Malfoy Manor was a large room near the rear of the estate. Tall, patterned glass looked out onto the private patio where many family receptions had been held in the summer nights. At this time of year, most of the ornamental furniture was glazed with a coating of hard frost and was consequently unpractical for the Dark Lord's birthday.

The room was tiled with a series of dull linoleum tiles. The walls too were bare, but the kitchen countertops and wall hangings brightened the room with a green and silver glow. The taps on the extravagant sinks were sculpted into the heads of snakes, as were the handles on the drawers, and the knobs on the stoves. Come to think of it, so was everything else. On the fridge was a selection of magnets that held in place drawings that Draco had completed of his parents. The wax crayon drawings looked like something that a five year old could produce, but it was obvious to everyone that at the bottom the signature said: _Draco Malfoy, 17._

Against the wall of the windows was a long, small in height, wooden table. A vibrant coloured paper table cloth lay over it to announce the table as the buffet table. A wide selection of savoury snacks lined the table, but at the moment most of the plates were covered in cling film to prevent peckish hands from picking at the cocktail sausages, or the pork pie, or the scotch eggs – which were highly popular amongst one certain witch.

Narcissa strode into the kitchen in a matter of urgency. Everything was as she left it, good. She had dismissed the rest of the helping hands at least half an hour ago. It was half eleven now, and the Dark Lord would be allowed to descend the stairs when the clock struck noon. As she paced around the kitchen, she took a deep breath, drew out her wand, and prepared to enchant the buffet table in order to levitate it through to the board room.

Her hand shook a little as she squinted her eyes with concentration. 'Wingardium…'

'Hello,' a high pitch voice squeaked from behind her.

Narcissa turned around at once. To her surprise, an unexpected visitor had appeared at just the wrong time. 'What do you want, cretin?'

Stood on the kitchen countertop was the one thing that the Mafloys had never wanted to come across again. The familiar tennis ball eyes bulged out with a facetious stare; it made a change from pitiful. The large eared creature leant forward as he looked warmly into Narcissa's gaze. His thin fingers rubbed the fabric of his grubby pillowcase-vest. Dobby the House-elf had returned to his room of service.

'Dobby sees that Mr. Malfoy has appointed his mistress the maid of the kitchen. Isn't that awful?' The House-elf chuckled heartily at the woman he used to serve.

'How dare you speak to me like that,' Narcissa pointed her wand at Dobby's throat and gritted her teeth, 'We still have the stove,' the tip of her wand pointed to the subject, 'or the refrigerator…just in case you decided that you missed your favourite punishments.'

'Dobby could never miss such days consisting of extortionate heat and freezing cold.' Dobby spoke confidently as he tried to back his head away from wandpoint.

'But you used to punish yourself so frequently, you loved it!' Narcissa exclaimed, wanting to know why Dobby had had a sudden change of heart.

'Only because you would have put me through much worse,' Dobby argued back to the woman who he used to fear. He ran along the countertop and stopped at the other end. Leaning over the edge he pulled out a pair of large scissors. He tried to prise the metallic sheers open but simply couldn't due to the amount of glue that they were caked in. 'Draco still likes his crafts then?' Dobby tossed the scissors back into the draw as he rummaged for more.

'Did you just insult my son?' Narcissa's disgusted tone had already peaked, henceforth her questioning no longer scared Dobby. 'Avada Kedavra!'

Dobby had managed to get a hold of some working scissors just in time. As he looked back up at Narcissa he noticed the green jet of light that her wand had produced. Instinctively, the House-Elf clicked his fingers once and vanished into thin air.

'He took my best pair!' Narcissa screeched as she watched her killing curse soak into the kitchen wall.

'Hello again,' Dobby's chirpy voice had returned. He had apparated himself onto the buffet table where he looked down at the entire collection of well prepared savoury snacks. His eyes gleamed as he opened the scissors – a hand on each handle. He gently prodded the sharp point of the scissors into the cling film that covered one of the plates.

Narcissa watched in astonishment as the child like House-Elf cut through all of the cling film that was preserving the food. Not knowing how to react she sent a few weak stunning spells into the walls and ceiling. Forcing herself to refocus, she concentrated her aim on Dobby.

As he dodged the lethal sparks of light, Dobby grabbed for a large porcelain plate which he held before him. In doing this, he had emptied the plate of its contents; and now as a consequence, Dobby was stood in a mountain of sausage rolls.

The savoury snacks were baked very nicely, and the Slytherin coat of arms had been engraved into the pastry of each individual sausage roll. Dobby took a moment to appreciate the hard work that had clearly gone into this food preparation but then decided he'd have to retaliate. The cheeky elf held the plate in his left hand so that he still had a shield, but with his free right hand he leant down and firmly grasped onto the greasy delight that was the sausage roll. Then after clenching it tightly in his fist, he launched it into the air and across the kitchen.

This battle strategy continued until the sausage rolls were no more. As Dobby flung them toward Narcissa, she fired spells which collided with the buffet snacks; sending tiny chunks of meat flying across the kitchen along with flakes of crispy pastry.

Dobby considered moving on to the plate of pork pie slices, but after evaluating his food fighting regime, he simply picked one up and began eating. He knew that Narcissa would be able to combat all of the food that he sent her way.

In one last desperate attempt, Dobby threw the porcelain plate across the kitchen like a Frisbee in a park. He watched carefully as it headed towards Mrs. Malfoy. She had once more produced a spell that would destroy the plate, and this is where Dobby became clever.

Just before the plate and the spell clashed, Dobby clicked his fingers which made the plate explode of its own accord with small flames. One of the tiny flames managed to spread to the jet of light that was the spell and in doing so the spell became so much stronger. This caused a massive mid-air explosion to take place in the centre of the kitchen. The strong walls cracked and the buffet table was slammed against the tall windows.

'My kitchen!' Narcissa explained as she waved a cloud of smoke away from her face. As she looked in horror at the damage that had been done, her gaze searched for Dobby…but he had already apparated.


End file.
